


Therapy

by isotoperuption



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 14:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4790297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isotoperuption/pseuds/isotoperuption
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles really needs a better outlet than his drinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Dhiz for being the inspiriation and beta reader for this.

Charles Foster Ofdensen had precious few outlets to vent his stresses through. Being the manager and CFO of the most successful death metal band in the world had many trials, but it was worth it.

His therapist suggested a creative outlet to combat a budding alcohol problem. This of course sparked an argument about scheduling and having the free time to do so. The black hooded therapist became insistent, bringing up the transplants Nathan went through. Charles had no desire to get into a transplant race with the lead singer.

The CFO left the session earlier than normal to put in some work and think on the advice he'd received. The mornings were usually the quietest in Mordhaus, the only people awake were klokateers. And of course Charles, he couldn't remember a time where he slept past five am.

"Sir, I need to remind you we need to have auditions for the 'Facebones' voice. I have a list of industry veterans of which we can use." A deep voice came from underneath a black hooded Klokateer wearing a suit. Currently this one was his twentieth assistant, this one had picked up on things fast. Charles could only hope this one would make it to the six month mark.

The list detailed everything, small roles to large roles. Anything that would spark unwanted controversy for the band highlighted in green. Attached to each profile was a CD containing some sample work and a list of blackmail. The twentieth was good, had his bases covered and took the initiative to dig for dirt. Dirt was always good in a world where the media could rip you to shreds over the smallest thing.

"Actually put these auditions on hold, I have an idea about doing it in house." Charles finally spoke after skimming the first four. "Is the recording studio open?"

"Yes sir, the masters haven't woken up yet." His assistant recalled.

"Good, make sure it stays empty for the next two hours." The therapist never said he couldn't mix work in with his outlet. The band wouldn't be awake for another four hours, which left plenty of time for everything else.

The studio was silent and spotless, the cleaning staff was immaculate and precise. The leather couch that took damage from a broken beer bottle looked good as new and the smell of deep fried food gone. Pristine and perfect, ready for the band to settle in later in the afternoon to mess it up again. It was a cycle that was never deviated from, this cycle was somewhat relaxing. With that he could work for a few hours and no one would be the wiser except for a few klokateers.

He'd managed a couple of voice actors in his early days, watched them work and get into character. Everyone had their own method, but then again they knew what kind of character they were to be. Facebones was still a blank slate, with the pressure to put out a demo cd small projects fell by the wayside.

The doodle that Nathan and Pickles had come up with years ago had a short list of things near by it. A closer look revealed a shopping list in Pickles's half legible chicken scratch. Not something that was helpful in the slightest.

The CFO spun around in the recording studio's chair, wondering what he was even doing with his life. There were at the least a hundred things he could be doing rather than this. The list of voice actors looked attractive, he could pay out a small sum for someone else to deal with it. He could be doing some extra digging for some new merch niche that no one had thought of. He could be enjoying an entire bottle of brandy to prepare himself for what was going to be a long day.

The last thought was the nail in the coffin for him, it was a problem and it needed fixed. If not for himself but for the good of the band. He was going to voice this thing if it took him all two hours to figure out something. It started with just venting some frustrations, complaints about some minor things. Then it moved toward actual lines that would be useful and pretty soon there was just a solid block of swear words. If anything it felt good to just be able to rattle off everything that annoyed him at the moment.

At one point during his rant about the font used  for the contracts a voice stuck with him. It was fast paced and needed a little pitching but it was silly enough to be acceptable to the public eye. The undertone was firm though, enough that it would get  the point across.

An hour later the base voice for emergency functions and incoming calls was set up and tweaked. Charles not only felt like he'd gotten work done, but he felt better altogether. No longer did he want the entire bottle of brandy, but was ready to tackle what was sure to be a tedious meeting.

It was a weekly thing now to set aside a couple hours in the morning to rattle off some lines for Facebones. With the AI set up it would need a vocabulary and Charles provided it bit by bit. Adding sometimes a collection of creative swear words that Skwisgar had invented.

The weeks turned into months, his secret kept and a mascot voiced. Facebones turned up in such huge popularity that the demand for a plush rose. Of course it would talk when you squeezed it, fans would pay extra for that feature.

This was today's recording agenda, voice the plush so it would have a fast release date. There were some basic lines, all family friendly as there was not an age restriction on death metal. Charles was into his early morning recording session when he looked up from the paper. Horror spread across his face as he saw a delighted look upon Toki's and Skwisgaar's faces.

"...Fuck." Said aloud right in Facebones's voice.

"Guys yous has to come hears this." Toki was already out the door at full volume.

"Sos how longs has this been goings on?" Skwigaar asked while fussing with the tuning of his guitar.

"This is not up for discussion." Charles squeezed the bridge of his nose.

"I heard someone is dabbling with voice acting." Pickles swung open the studio door sounding cheerful for it being seven am. Why were they even up? "What's it for?"

"A product. That is going to make you all more money." The CFO may as well shift attention to something they all liked. "The Facebones collectible plush is going up for sale in a month. Demand for it is high and people are willing to pay extra for it talking. I was going to bring this up in today's product meeting."

"Do wes gets our own??" Toki's voice came from behind Nathan. "I wants to voice something too."

"I could arrange for that, yes." Charles adjusted the glasses on his face. Good they took the misdirection and focused on something that wasn't what he was doing.

"I'll pass, I've already done that Shakespeare bullshit." Nathan waved a hand and settled down on the couch. "You spend hours repeating the same twenty fucking words because you're not enunciating enough."

"The question is can we get a Murderface plush out there?" Ah yes there was Murderface's biggest concern. "I want to be out there too, I need the attention."

Charles made a  mental note to actually research that, talking Dethklok toys could work. But knowing where Murderface's popularity sat it would most likely end up in a small disaster. But it could be marketable for a good while before it crashed a burned.

The CFO's phone beeped, a reminder that a meeting was coming up in the next twenty minutes was his saviour. He excused himself, taking his papers and the voicing that he'd done to send to the manufacturers.

A month later the product dropped, it was a hit like anything Dethklok sold or endorsed. As promised everyone had their own delivered to them during their private after party. In all honesty it was a reason for everyone to get drunk and have a party, something Charles welcomed with open arms. All month the entire band had liked to bring up the 'fuck' incident and attempted to mimic the Facebones voice.

Toki and Pickles begged him to say it, if he didn't do the right voice he'd endure hours of goading. It usually helped to just say it and then continue on with business.

"I'd like everyone's attention." Pickles cough and tapped his beer bottle on the kitchen table. "Hey, pay attention."

The chatter died down as Pickles held his Facebones up and continued banging his beer on the table.

"Thank you, so to celebrate I got something special done to ours." Charles could feel a pit in his stomach, whatever Pickles had done he hoped it didn't infect the normal shipment. "Squeeze them."

Everyone without hesitation squeezed their plush at the same time. In perfect harmony a single phrase came out of the grinning horned skull.

'...Fuck.'

"Why." It wasn't even a question Charles wanted to know the answer to.

"Don't worry it's only ours." Pickles nudged their manager with the plush, a shit eating grin on the his face. "We just wanted to preserve the moment."

  
  



End file.
